


Stranger

by orphan_account



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You would have thought that by the seventh play it would have lost it’s sting, but it hasn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble-y and incredibly short

The song’s playing again, loud, through the speakers, resonating throughout her flat. It’s painfully true, so she keeps it on repeat to remind her what she’s done, and what she’s lost. You would have thought that by the seventh play it would have lost it’s sting, but it hasn’t.

“Last night, I slept with a stranger…”

She’s trying to busy herself, doing everything she can. Within the hour since she found the song, the place is spotless, and the play count has increased to twelve.

For what it’s worth, she tries to sing along where she can. Somewhere around the fifteenth time, she makes it the whole way through the first verse and almost to the chorus, before she’s reduced to a blubbering mess. The chorus is where it really strikes her close to home.

“…everything I love has gone away…”

Three hours later, the play count is nearing forty, she knows all the words, and the tears are gone. It’s been turned up louder, in a feeble attempt to drown out everything else.

It doesn’t work. The memories stay there, pieces of a puzzle of the night before that she’s struggling to complete.

She had wound up in a bar somewhere in the backstreets of LA. No one recognises her there, or at least they had the decency to pretend not to. She drank her sorrows away. She only remembers snippets of what happened. A girl - in her mind she remains nameless and faceless (but blonde, always blonde) - sidling up to her. A hand resting on her knee. Gradually moving higher as she downed six, seven, eight drinks. Blonde hair falling in her face along with a whisper of “let’s go back to my place,” and a nod of her head as she agrees.

She doesn’t remember much after that except her eyes, when she dared to look into them- blue. Too bright blue, too familiar blue, so much so that she had to squeeze hers tightly shut once again.

From what she can remember, she knows it wasn’t good. It was mediocre at best, and that’s what caused her to flee, mere hours after they had finished.

Sleep wouldn’t claim her, there was no way out of the shame.

Leaving was her only choice.

She listens again to the ending of the song. The bit she wouldn’t pay attention to because she doesn’t believe it.

“You know in a year, it’s gonna be better. You know in a year, I’m gonna be happy.”

It’s the first morning without Heather, the first in a long time.

Maybe in a while Naya might actually believe those words.


End file.
